To Be Human
by Dyscrasia
Summary: This story is based off of the surroundings and general principles of Battle Angel. The characters, however, are primarily of my own creation =)
1. Prologue

When we fall in love we want to believe that the object recieving our undying affection is perfect. That they would, under no circumstances, do anything wrong.  
  
This belief is a myth, plain and simple. No matter how deeply you love your partner, there are always going to be faults in them. Regardless. There isn't a cyborg or full-flesh human alive or dead that has ever been this way, nor will there ever be.  
  
This is not to say that I wasn't drawn into this belief as well: because I was. I guess that you could say I wasn optimist from the beginning. Or rather, that is to say, the beginning as far as I can remember.  
  
I am a cyborg. A human machine. In the scrapyard, where I was 'born', cyborgs were nothing unusual. In fact, they were in the majority. It was a thriving metropolis of the iron-clad, and I fit in well. I even enjoyed life, to an extent. Every story needs a good villain, and the story of my life was no exception to that. The ruthless circuit that tore my old, content way of life to shreds also helped me to find out who I really was. 


	2. Chapter 1

"Jeison!! I'm home!" I called out as I slammed the iron front door of the clinic shut. I didn't lock it. Most likely because there was no lock. Jeison had a faith in the citizens of Scrap Iron City that I never really understood, but didn't question. I recieved a muffled reply from the upper level of the clinic, and rushed up the stairs to meet with the man who had become a father-figure to me. I clanked loudly as I ran, making it seem as if an army of bots was coming up the stairwell rather than one simple cyborg girl. I was covered in my delivery bags, the collection of which made me seem to be a type of human camel. However, seeing as the majority of my person was made of steel I hardly felt the weight of the parts that filled the canvas to near overflow. "Welcome back, Crys. You're home early. Finish all of your deliveries?" Again, this reply was muffled due to the fact that Jeison's mouth was covered by a surgeon's mask. He was also bent over his latest patient, who was nervously clutching the sides of his pallet and enduring his surgery as best he could. Smiling proudly, I nodded, thought better of it when I saw his current level of concentration, and instead cried "Yup! Every last one of them" Finally tightening the last bolt in the reconstructed jaw of his patient, the tall blonde straightened and faced me with a smile. His patient, a man once entirely human until attacked by organ thieves, gave a small whimper and sank down in a relaxed position. Doctor Jeison was the best cybernetic surgeon in all of Scrap Iron City. It was rumored that he came from the high city of Zalem, but nobody could quite confirm this, and he never talked about it. He had come to be known as the 'fallen angel' of the city. He worked on people, repairing broken iron limbs, for little or no money. Many whispered suspiciously about how he managed to keep this clinic open when he hardly accepted payment. I never worried about it, however. I was too star-struck by Jeison. I worked for Jeison as a delivery girl. I took fixed parts back to their owners, brought broken parts back to the clinic, and ran any other small errands that needed to be done. In return for my service I lived in the clinic, in my own little room on the second floor that had a window and a soft pillowy pallet to sleep on. I also got free 'tune-ups' courtesy of the Doc, and had my body kept in top shape by having parts replaced or worked on. It was more than a deal. "Doc I....I don't know how I'm going to pay you for this..." The forelorned patient shamefully said, his eyes downcast to the tiled floor. "Ah, don't worry about that" Jeison replied with a large smile "You just rest up and we'll see how that jaw feels in the morning, alright?" Nodding gratefully, the man rolled over on his pallet and shut his eyes, releasing a shuddering sigh as if the events of the day had just been too much for him. I followed Jeison from the room as he turned off the lights and shut the door. He smiled at me, patting my dark haired head, and glanced at the clock that sat atop several of the boxes stacked in the hall. "It's getting late. You'd better head to bed. I have a big job for you tomorrow." He said mysteriously, and silencing my curious inquiries by gently pushing me down the hall to my room. "Come to my office when you wake up" 


	3. Chapter 2

"Crys, have you heard of Eutopia?" Jeison asked me, his gaze out the window. I sat in his 'office', a chaos of papers, diagrams, charts. I suppose that saying I 'sat' in his office wasn't the write word for it either, because really I had just perched myself on the tallest stack of papers. His office had no chairs, because it rarely had anybody in it. "The city full of full-fleshes?" I asked curiously, my interest captured. Sure I had heard of it. It was a walled city. A sort of Zalem that lied on the ground instead of floating on the sky. Only 'full-fleshes' (that is, a person that is all human instead of partially cyborg) could earn the right to citizenship. They left the trade circuit open to keep their city thriving, but there were no cyborgs allowed other than that. The citizens of Eutopia could come and go freely, however. "That's the one. Your next delivery assignment is going to be to Eutopia." "Eutopia?! But that's...at least a day's walk away!" I squeaked. I had never spent the night outside of the clinic. That is to say that of all the memories I had access to I couldn't remember one. But that's a different story. The thought of being on my own for the night scared me like it scares any child leaving home. "You're right, it is. But I think that you'll be able to handle it." He smiled at my frightened face, ensuring me that he believed in me, and I couldn't help but return it. "What is it I'm going to be delivering?" I asked, trying to sound as brave as I possibly could, while rummaging about in my pouches to ensure I had adaquate room to store this new part. "Ah, what you'll be delivering won't be able to fit into any of your bags, Crys. This is something much larger" What could possibly be larger than a part?  
  
*******  
  
The plains outside of Scrap Iron City are a desolate landscape. Just a bunch of dust and rocks. I had only been there once before this trip, and I couldn't say that I was ecstatic to be returning. My battered old tan cloak shrouded me from the harsh wins as I trudged along, my black-blue hair whipping madly about my face. Occasionally I would glance down at the 'delivery' which trudged along beside me. "Who knew they made cyborg DOGS, too" I said aloud to myself. The lonely pup had lifted its ears and wagged its iron tail as I had entered its pen that morning to begin its journey home. Apparently cyborgs themselves weren't allowed in Eutopia, but there was no guideline for pets. This poor little guy had once been a beautiful golden lab, but had sustained an almost fatal attack by fellow dogs in his home city. Now his back legs and the left side of his face had been replaced by shiny new steel. He seemed all the more cheerful for it, however, for he romped about me as I trudged along, grumbling about yet another sand storm. Before I knew it I had become attached to the little guy. Vermathrax was his name. I thought it a strange name, but I couldn't say anything considering the oddity of my name. I made a mental note to ask Jeison why he had come to decide my name would be 'Crysania'. "Looks like we're going to have to set up camp little guy" I cooed affectionately at the romping puppy who lifted both his real and his glass eye to regard me curiously. I spread out my portable sleeping pallet on the flattest piece of ground I could find, then set out the small, folded up blanket I had brought for the puppy. He gave it one glance, then trotted back over and flopped himself down on the foot of my pallet. "Hey!" I cried in annoyance, wriggling my feet in a vain attempt to move him "This is MY sleeping place, yours is over THERE!" I pointed my index finger as if it would have any affect on him. Undaunted, the pup simply curled up, laying his head on his tail and closing his eyes. It made such a cute picture that I found myself without the heart to move him, and soon I found myself dozing off into blissful sleep  
  
*****  
  
Rampant barking drifted into the thick darkness of sleep, followed by a pained yelp. Within an instant I was awake, and bolted upright to see what was going on. At first all I could see was the thick darkness of the plains, before my night vision came on. Anger coiled in me and I sprang up to face the band of plain thieves that had sprung upon my wounded pup. "Oh, look what we have here boys, a little girl too" The gruff voice was followed by sinister laughter which seemed to float to me from some distant place. Ignoring this supposed ringleader, I turned to his accomplice, who held my cyber pup in his arms. "Put him down" I said in a voice I hardly recognized as my own, which had a bite to it that startled me, and even caused the thief to lose the cocky expression on his face. After a moment's silence there was more laughter, and the leader of the group advanced on me. I knew I should have been scared, but I wasn't. A feeling I hadn't experienced before began to coil inside me, bubbling through my body like a plague. The changes I suddenly went through frightened me, but I seemed powerless to stop me. There was a flash of steel. The leader had pulled a knife and was lunging at me. He seemed to be moving in slow motion. I watched as his mouth slowly opened in a battle cry that rang in my ears with an echo not of this world. The hand holding the knife came up, up, above his head, preparing itself to take the plunge into my body. Apparently he had no clue I was a cyborg. His eyed seemed to pop from his head. He was headed right for me, too. I had to wonder how he could see me this well. He didn't seem to be a cyborg himself, but appearances could be decieving. He was drawing nearer. My sense of smell was over powered by his stench, which combined sweat, dirt, and a cologne I couldn't begin to guess why any human being would wear. "Move!! Move or he's going to hit you!" The frightened side of me cried from somewhere far away. And then suddenly, fluidly, I WAS moving. The problem was that I was moving TOWARDS him, and not away. "What are you doing?! Get away! You're out numbered! They'll kill you!" the voice came again, but it went unheeded. My fist raised, pulled back. Tension built. I watched in detached fascination as the expresion of the thief changed, from one of blood lust to one of confusion. Briefly I wondered why the whole world seemed to be moving so slowly. I could hear every heart beat around me, including the frantic beating of the pup still painfully clutched in the arms of my battle partners buddy. Tension released. My fist shot forward,aimed straight for the face of the thief. He didn't have time to react, to scream. Before he knew it, steel smashed into his soft-boned head, shattering instantly. I felt the bite of steel as it tore through my shoulder, causing the small amount of pain that a cyborg experienced (the pain was a mechanism built into cyborgs), but it barely affected me. My fist kept going, spurred on by the incredible force that it had built. I felt blood pour over my hand like a warm river, heard the momentary scream of fatal pain from my victim. Suddenly the world ran in normal time again. The rush of the change made me dizzy, and I almost fell forward onto my victim, but somehow managed to keep my balance and stay up. I watched in horrified fascination as the body of the thief slumped to the ground. I raised my hand to examine its new coating of blood, brains, and bits of bone. I began to feel whoozy. I had always been squeemish of blood, and had never in my life come in contact with this much at one time. Let alone the fact that it now coated my hand and parts of my arm like a liquid glove. The last image I remember was the remainder of the gang of thieves, now minus a leader, high tailing it across the desert to their cycles. I must have been scowling at them, judging by the way they backed up. My hand went to my shoulder to ensure no pipes had been severed and were leaking. Then my eyes rolled up into my head, and my unconscious body slid to the desert floor. I briefly wondered what had happened to Vermathrax. 


End file.
